Snapshots
by Another Winter
Summary: Short ficlets focused on the young Wammy’s boys and some of the events that might have played out in their childhood years.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Before anyone flames me, know that humor is not really my strong suit. These were originally just little prose doodles inspired by some "wouldn't it be funny if" conversations between one of my friends and I. They are images that we found amusing, but I know everyone's sense of humor is different, so I understand completely if you find them stupid. These were also written before any of my real fics, so there might be some out-of-character stuff. This first one was inspired by two notions. 1) Judging by the number of allusions in **_**Another Note**_**, Mello probably liked to read. 2) Near's notebook-switching prowess was way too advanced to have been a one time thing. He probably had practice. (Yes, I know Gevanni did the actual switching, but Near masterminded the whole thing). So without further delay, here is the first ficlet.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Death Note**_** or any of the characters in this story. **

A howl echoed through the dark, quiet halls of Wammy's House followed by the violent slamming of a door.

"Near!" a small, golden-haired boy screamed, storming out into the hallway. He half-tripped over the bottom of his black pajama pants and began a very angry and very purposeful journey to the end of the hallway. A boy with reddish hair and a sleepy, confused look in his eyes peeked out of the room the golden-haired boy had emerged from. He thought of following his roommate, but then decided this was probably one of those things it was best not to get involved in.

The golden-haired boy kicked open the door at the end of the hallway with a force that almost set him off balance and rushed inside.

"I don't know how you did it, or when," he hissed, shaking a hard-bound book in his hand, "But I know it was you."

A boy with messy white hair slowly sat up in his bed, clutching the blanket in his tiny fists. He blinked at the figure silhouetted in his open doorway.

"Hm… Mello? Is that you?"

"Who do you think it is?"

"What are you doing here? Did you have a nightmare?" The tone in the white-haired boy's voice was somewhere between emotionless innocence and an insult.

"No, but lemme spell out a little scenario for you, Near. I sit down in my room with a good book and pick up reading where I left off yesterday. 'Kay? Got that? Well, as I'm reading suddenly my dramatic coming-of-age narrative turns into a detailed description of the inner workings of small diesel engines. Mid-sentence."

Mello's eye twitched.

"I didn't know you liked engines, Mello."

"I don't!" Mello screamed, throwing the book down on the floor. "_Someone _replaced a page of my book with a page of some other book!"

"Publishing mistakes happen all the time."

"I know it was you!" Mello screamed, stomping his foot.

"How would I be able to do that?"

"I don't know. I don't know how you did it, but you did!"

His voice cracked as he continued to scream.

Mello was just about to leap onto the smaller child when a shadow appeared in the doorway.

"What's going on in here?" an older British man asked. "It's way past your bedtimes, boys."

"Roger!" Mello gasped, running to the man and tugging on his pant leg. "Near! He-he took my book and he… switched it! The pages! They were…"

"Mello, get back to bed. It is very late. You're disturbing all the other children."

"But Roger!"

"Mello, you have to the count of three. One… Two…"

"This isn't fair!" Mello shrieked, scowling at Roger and holding his ground defiantly.

"Three."

The man grabbed Mello by the hand and began to drag him out of Near's room. Mello tried to dig his bare heels into the carpeting, but only succeeded in making himself fall over. He began to flail and cry as Roger led him back to his room.

Mello plopped onto his bed and crossed his arms and legs after wiping a few bitter tears from his cheek.

His red-haired roommate simply looked at him and sighed.

"I told you it wasn't a good idea to lock Near in the closet last week."

**Author's Note: So…yeah… If you found that entertaining in any way, there's another ficlet in the next chapter involving Tetris which I personally like better than this one. If you did not find it entertaining, I'm sorry for having wasted your time. Please leave a review if you have any comments or suggestions. Thank you for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Thank you for continuing on to the next chapter! This ficlet was inspired by the fact that Tetris seems like the perfect common ground between Matt and Near. Matt likes video games, and Near likes stacking things, it's a match made in heaven. Not everybody likes Tetris though…**

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Death Note**_** or any of the characters used in this story. I also do not own Nintendo or Tetris.**

Joyful, Russian-sounding music bleeped out of the speakers on the side of the rec-room TV as Near stared intently at the colorful falling cubes on the screen. He held the rectangular controller loosely in his hands, clicking the buttons with gentle precision.

Behind him Matt stood transfixed, watching the pixels with great enthusiasm.

"Ooh! There! Put that one there!" Matt cried, pointing at the screen and breaking the human silence.

Near gave a little jump and glanced back at the boy behind him.

"What did I tell you before, Matt?" he asked emotionlessly, fixing his eyes back on the television.

"Oh, sorry…"

The two children sat in that same spot for hours, Matt doing his best to hold the silence that Near demanded. It became more and more difficult as the white-haired boy's score grew ever higher.

Eventually the room was completely dark except for the eerie glow that the television cast on their faces.

Mello ran into the room carrying a little sketchpad and a box of colored pencils.

"Matt! Look! I… Hey, why is it so dark in here?"

Near and Matt didn't show any signs of having noticed Mello's presence. They just continued to stare at the screen.

"Matt!"

Matt cast a quick glance at Mello.

"Not now, Mello. Tetris."

"Tetris? Have you been here since lunch playing that stupid game?"

He was met with silence again.

"Hello?!"

"What, Mello?"

Mello's face fell slightly with Matt's response.

"Don't you wanna go--"

"Not now. Near's gonna beat Tetris."

Mello stepped curiously over to the screen.

"What's so great about that game anyway?"

"Everything!" Matt exclaimed.

"Quiet," Near said flatly.

"Oh yeah," Matt whispered. "You've gotta be quiet when Near's playing. Shh…"

"You guys, this is stupid."

"No one's making you stay here," Near said.

Mello gritted his teeth and grabbed Matt's arm.

"Come on, let's go."

"Near is going to _beat_ Tetris! No one ever beats Tetris, Mello. I didn't even think it was possible to beat Tetris, but look at how fast those blocks are falling! And look at Near's score! He's really gonna do it!"

Mello scowled and waited until Matt's attention was once again consumed by the game to creep over to the electrical outlet on the wall. With a quick tug, he pulled the plugs for both the Nintendo and the TV out of their sockets.

The television screen went black and the synthetic music ceased, plunging the room into almost total darkness.

Near continued to stare at the screen without any readable expression, but Matt made a noise like a wounded animal and tugged at his own hair.

"Wh-what… How?"

"Game over," Mello laughed.

**Author's Note: I would definitely kick Mello's butt for that, but that's just me. I'll add more to this story when and if anymore scenarios pop into my head. Thank you for reading! Please leave a review if you have comments or suggestions!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Another idea finally came and kicked me in the butt. The goal of this ficlet was really just to explore the notion of one Wammy trying to wake another one up. I decided on Mello and Matt. I'm not quite sure when this ficlet takes place, but the boys are older than in the previous ficlets, yet younger than in the beginning of "Dust and Mirrors". Matt already seems to be developing his healthy sarcasm, but Mello is still a bit childish. I know that Mello didn't actually seem that excited about the video conference in the Rewrite clip, but I needed some reason for him to be awake, and that was the best I could come up with. Sorry! I hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Death Note**_** or any of the characters used in this story.**

The early morning darkness pushed its way through the dormitory window, filling the room with a distinctive autumn chill. The curtains ruffled in the breeze as if coming to life, then quickly died down. Even they knew it was too early to be showing signs of animation.

Mello was unaware of this fact, however. And, as he turned fitfully in his bed, he attempted to make as much noise as possible.

When he realized that the mere rustling of sheets and groaning of mattress springs was not going to be enough to shake his roommate from his slumber, he sat up. The cold of the floorboards shot through his feet as he got out of bed and stumbled across the room.

"Matt," he whispered, watching the boy's sleeping form for movement. "Matt, wake up."

Matt remained sprawled belly-down across his bed, his face buried in a pillow and his left leg hanging awkwardly off the side. Mello wondered how Matt didn't suffocate with his face buried in such a way.

"Hey, can you hear me? Wake up."

Matt's position remained unchanged.

Mello huffed.

The blonde crept around to the top of the bed and buried his fingers in the redhead's pillow. With a violent yank, he ripped the pillow from under Matt's head and watched as the boy's face lifted slightly with the movement then hit the mattress.

Matt twitched and mumbled something incoherent before rolling over to face the other way.

"Matt!" Mello whispered louder. "Hey!"

He smacked the pillow against his friend's shoulder, repeating the action with more force when it provoked no response.

Matt groaned and curled into a fetal position.

"Ahh… What…the… mmm…"

Mello smacked him with the pillow again.

He uncurled this time and rolled over onto his back, blinking when he saw Mello standing over him with the cushy, down-filled weapon.

"…Mello?"

Mello considered hitting him one more time, but decided against it.

"Oh, good. You're up."

Matt pulled his eyes closed again and began to mumble in a drowsy voice.

"Yeah, I just couldn't help it. I've got this sleep disorder where people come and hit me with pillows whenever I'm having a good dream. I should really have it checked out…"

"The video conference is today!"

Matt opened one eye to glare at Mello.

"Yeah? And?"

"I can't sleep! It's too exciting!"

Matt sighed.

"So you had to wake me up?"

"Yeah," Mello replied, as if assuming otherwise was absolutely moronic. "What are you going to ask L tomorrow?"

"How to get a roommate change."

"I'm serious!"

Matt opened his other eye and grinned.

"I am too."

Mello smacked him with the pillow again.

"Augh! Okay! I don't know… What name he uses to make restaurant reservations?"

Mello stared at him.

"That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard. We all know that Watari…"

Matt started to drift off again as Mello ran through an elaborate description of L's fake names and Watari's organizational skills, unaware of Matt's intended sarcasm.

"Are you listening to me?"

Matt snapped his eyes open.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah. Aliases…Watari… Dessert menu… All that. Great."

Mello smacked him once again with the pillow.

"Take this seriously!"

Matt reached for his pillow, which he pulled out of Mello's hands before the blonde knew what was happening.

"You've lost your pillow privileges, Mello. That is not what those are for."

"Then listen to me!" Mello argued, making a swipe for the pillow.

Matt leaned away to keep the pillow out of Mello's grasp and smirked triumphantly.

"I'll listen to you. I'll just be really still, really quiet, and my eyes will be closed. How's that?"

Mello gave Matt the sourest face he had ever seen.

"Mello, it's like four in the morning…"

"Fine," Mello spat angrily, punching Matt in the arm and stomping back to his own bed.

There was about a five minute silence as Mello spastically kicked his blankets around in an attempt to find a comfortable position and Matt tried to fall back to sleep. The curtains remained still even as the wind tore through the trees outside and clouds drifted over the bright moon. Finally, there was a mild sigh and Matt's voice cut through the night once more.

"Why don't you tell me about L's reservation protocol again? I think I may have missed some stuff."

Mello sat bolt upright and looked at his roommate in confusion and joy before beginning to ramble on excitedly once again.

Matt simply sighed again and smiled to himself in the darkness.

He really _did_ need to have this sleep disorder checked out.

**Author's Note: Yep. Hopefully another idea will strike me soon! I want to do more stuff with Near. He's too cute to ignore. I just have trouble with his personality. We'll see what my brain vomits up. Thank you for reading. Please leave a review if you have comments or suggestions.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Hey everyone, sorry for not posting anything for a while. I finally got hit with another little ficlet idea this morning and made my attempt at Near! I think he came off as a little more pessimistic than he probably is, but I picture young Near as a bit of a miserable boy, so hopefully it's okay. Thank you to anyone who has been reading, and I hope you enjoy this short ficlet! **

Near stared down at the frosted cake before him, twirling a lock of white hair between his fingers. Seated around him at the table were the other young residents of Wammy's House, looking eagerly at the cake and making no eye contact with the boy it was meant for.

"Go on and blow out the candles, Near," Roger said with a smile, passing out plates to the other children. "And be sure to make a wish."

Near turned his blank, cavernous eyes in Roger's direction.

"I do not want to make a wish."

Roger did not look up from his stack of plates.

"Sure you do, Near. Don't you want it to come true?"

"Yes. And that is precisely why I will not trust it to a cluster of wax candles."

"Blow out the stupid candles, Near!" Mello yelled from a few seats down the table, gripping a knife in one hand and a fork in the other.

"Mello," Roger said warningly, drawing out the syllables of the boy's name.

"We've been sitting here for ten minutes watching Near stare at his cake!"

"It's Near's birthday. We did something special for your birthday too, remember?"

"This isn't special, this is ridiculous!"

Mello started to get up, as if to blow out the candles himself.

"Get back in your seat, Mello."

Matt, who was seated beside the blonde-haired boy, grabbed his arm and pulled him back into his seat.

Near watched the flames dance atop the thin, pink-and-white candles and continued to twirl his hair. The one furthest to the left was beginning to melt, trailing translucent wax across the icing around it. Near followed the path of the dripping wax with his eyes.

"Is something the matter, Near?" Roger asked, reluctantly turning to the boy because he had no more plates to distract himself with.

"Why do we blow out candles on a day that is meant to celebrate life?"

Roger fell silent for a moment.

"It's just a tradition, Near. Don't think too far into it."

Near watched the candles in silence for a few more moments.

Roger could see all of the children starting to fidget and squirm, eyeing the cake before Near like hyenas. If the boy didn't blow out his candles soon, Roger feared he might have a dinner table mutiny on his hands.

"Everyone else is very hungry, Near," Roger said, trying to push the boy along.

Near looked at Roger, then the table of children, and finally the cake again. He let go of his hair and blew a soft wisp of air toward the candles, effectively snuffing the flames.

The other children cheered and tried to contain themselves as pieces of the cake were doled out. Roger handed Near a birthday card that all the residents had signed, along with a large, boxed puzzle. Ignoring his own slice of cake completely, Near took the puzzle and retreated to the corner.

By the time everyone had consumed their cake, Near had three-fourths of a picturesque red mill spread out on the floor around him. Matt strode up to him, put his hands on his hips, and looked down at the fragmented mill.

"Wow, you went through that thing pretty quick, huh?"

Near nodded without looking up from the puzzle.

"I know you don't really like all this birthday stuff, Near, but try to cheer up a little, huh? You made it through another year!"

Matt smiled his big, signature smile and shook Near gently by the shoulder.

"It makes one wonder how many are left," the white-haired boy muttered.

Matt's smile did not fade.

"There are plenty left, you little kill-joy. Now come on. Get back to the table and eat your cake before Mello does."

**Author's Note: And you just **_**know**_** that the whole time Near was doing that puzzle, Mello was eyeing up his cake. Thank you for reading! Leave a review if you have comments or suggestions!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Hello all. I'm here to say that I still exist (surprisingly)! I've had other projects on my plate, which have been consuming most of my free time. My "Death Note" obsession is still as strong as ever though, and more fanfics will come eventually (I don't know if that's a good or bad thing). This ficlet portrays Matt as quite a little troublemaker. I also included Linda for the first time ever. I wasn't going to, but I couldn't write something about an art class and leave her out. That would just be cruel. Ages in this ficlet… probably about a year before "Dust and Mirrors". So, I hope you enjoy. I apologize in advance for any inconsistencies or stupidity. I also send a warning about a line at the end that might be seen as offensive or off-color to some readers. I don't believe it warrants a rating change, but if you feel otherwise, please let me know.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Death Note" or any of the characters used in this story.**

"Are you boys doing alright?" the woman asked, setting down a container of graphite pencils. Her hair was a stormy mix of blonde and gray, and her eyes held the subtle jubilation of a life spent amongst paint and ink.

"We're fine," Mello replied curtly, wishing that she would leave. He could not draw with her watching him.

The woman stole what she thought was an inconspicuous glance at Mello's work and smiled.

"Try adding a little more depth to that corner. If you look at the subject, there's a bigger shadow over there."

Mello's hand tensed around his pencil.

"I'm not done yet," he growled.

Getting the message, the art teacher turned to Matt.

"And what about you, dear?"

"I'm good," the red-head replied, scribbling enthusiastically.

"Um… the assignment was to draw the still-life on the table, Matt."

"This is my symbolic interpretation of it."

"It looks like a dragon with a rifle."

"Nah. You've got it all wrong. This is a metaphor for the injustice the apple feels. Look at it. Out there, rolled over on that tablecloth. All the other fruits get to sit in the bowl together, but the apple… well, he feels a lot of pain."

The teacher stared at Matt, unsure of how to react. She couldn't tell if he was being serious and deserved praise for creative thought, or if he was being sarcastic and deserved punishment.

She settled for a silent nod and walked away.

"You're so full of crap," Mello said, not looking up from his own drawing.

"What? You don't think the apple is riddled with angst?"

"You just wanted to draw a dragon. Admit it."

Matt smirked.

"Are you stifling my creative vision?"

Mello huffed and began to erase and redraw a portion of his picture.

"Hey. Hey, Mello. Look at this."

Matt finished drawing something on his paper and held it up for Mello to see.

Right in the dragon's line of fire, there now stood a blonde-haired stick figure with an exaggerated scowl.

Mello produced a scowl that looked eerily similar to the one on the paper and turned back to his artwork as Linda approached their table.

"Hey guys. Pretty neat assignment today, huh?"

"Not exactly my favorite," Matt answered, rocking back in his chair. "I don't think Mello likes it either. He's having a hard time understanding the apple's emotional plight."

Linda looked at Matt questioningly.

"Causing trouble again, I see?"

"Trouble? No. No trouble. I'd just rather draw something cool."

"It's hard to concentrate with you two talking so loudly," Mello said caustically, squinting at his paper as if trying to telekinetically light it aflame.

"You seem frustrated, Mello. What's wrong?" Linda asked.

"I can't make it look right. No matter how many times I draw it, it looks terrible."

"Hey, don't worry about it," she said with a smile. "Still lives can be hard. Near was having trouble too."

Mello looked across the room to where Near sat, contorted into his usual sitting posture. His pale face had a smear of graphite on it, and he seemed to be in a state of painful concentration.

"I'd suggest taking a little break and stepping back for a minute," Linda added.

"Hey, I know. How about you go up there and take a bite of the apple when no one's looking?"

"Don't be an idiot, Matt," Mello sighed.

"Come on. Don't tell me you're afraid of Ms. Liston."

"I'm not afraid of getting in trouble. Taking a bite of the apple is just the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"It can't be the _stupidest_."

"Why don't you do it then?"

"I don't need to. I'm already intimately acquainted with the apple." He motioned to his drawing. "It would be so funny, and you know this class needs some excitement. Come on, Mello. Do it. Bite the apple."

Mello's face showed deep contemplation for a moment, and then he stood up and began to creep toward the table.

"Alright, _now_ you're causing trouble," Linda said, stifling a laugh.

Matt grinned back at her and watched Mello's fruit-oriented pilgrimage.

The blonde reached the table and looked around cautiously before picking up the fruit and taking a huge bite. He then set it back where it was, its new wound displayed for all to see.

The two boys giggled when Mello returned to his seat and Linda shook her head.

Some time passed, and the trio almost forgot about the assignment altogether until they saw Near raise his hand to summon the teacher.

"How can I help you, Near?" Ms. Liston asked.

"The still life has changed," he said in his unenthused way. "Am I supposed to start over?"

Mello and Matt burst into hysterics at the question, drawing a glare from the teacher. Linda blushed and returned to her seat, fearing a verdict of guilty by association.

"Would you boys care to explain yourselves?" the teacher asked.

"Oh, it wasn't us," Matt said, holding back laughter. "The apple couldn't take it anymore. You should have listened to me when I told you it was in a lot of pain."

**Author's Note: Let's hope the boys didn't get into too much trouble. It's just an apple after all. Thank you very much for reading. Please review if you have comments or suggestions.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Season's greetings, fan fiction people! I know a lot of authors are probably writing Christmas specials, but that is one band wagon I am thrilled to hop upon. I am a holiday season junkie, and I could not resist the urge to do a Wammy's Christmas ficlet. If you do not celebrate the holiday or do not like it, I apologize. I imagine Matt and Mello to be around the age of twelve or thirteen in this ficlet. I hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Death Note" or any of the characters used in this story.**

"You're gonna tangle them!" Mello gasped as he watched Matt fumble with a string of Christmas lights.

"Uh, and how would that be any different from their current state?" the redhead asked jokingly from behind messy bangs.

"Don't tangle them, Matt! If one light goes out, the whole thing won't work!"

"They're already tangled! I'm trying to_ untangle _them!"

"Let me do it. You take the garland."

Matt sighed and handed the electric rat's nest to Mello. He reached into the cardboard box they had propped on Mello's desk and pulled out a glittery jumble of silver garland.

He raised his eyebrows as he spread the decorative rope to its full length to find it twisted into knots as well.

"Are you the one who put these away last year?"

"Yeah," Mello replied as he glanced over his shoulder. "You wouldn't do it."

"Well, you suck at it," Matt said with an expression halfway between a smirk and a frustrated frown.

Mello furrowed his brow, but refused to argue. Instead he cranked up the volume knob on Matt's stereo, filling the room with carols.

"Yeah, good idea," Matt muttered. "Just in case the whole hallway couldn't hear your music already..."

"I don't see any garland on the tree."

Mello was probably the only person in the world who could utter that sentence and make it sound threatening.

Matt began to string the glittery expanse onto the branches of their small, artificial tree without removing the knots. He then rummaged through the box to find a smaller box of ornaments.

Most of the ornaments were department store clearance items, purchased for the lowest price possible and distributed among the orphans for their annual tree decorating competition. Roger reasoned that the children needed something to occupy themselves at this time of year. The holidays had a way of awakening memories of deceased families and lost homes, and though cheap, flashy trees would not prevent tears of bereavement, he hoped they would encourage the students to build new memories.

There were a handful of ornaments in the box that held greater meaning than the mass produced red balls and plastic stars. Matt held up two ceramic gingerbread men, one missing an arm, and remembered how Mello had destroyed his craft so many years ago. The next objects to emerge were paper reindeer, one without a head. Matt's revenge from the following year. He chuckled and hung the injured ornaments next to each other, positioning their intact twins a few branches down. The rest of the ornaments took their places soon after.

"What are you doing?" Mello screamed, widening his eyes in genuine panic. "You can't put the ornaments on until we have the lights!"

"Calm down, man. It's not a big deal."

Mello rattled the now-perfectly-straight string of lights in a white knuckle grip.

"Yes it is! Take them off. We need to put the lights on first."

The blonde took to the tree and began to pull away the ornaments as if they were lint on a tacky holiday sweater.

Matt watched in annoyance, but said nothing and made no movements to stop him. The gamer didn't care much about the tree at all, but he knew this tradition was ridiculously important to his friend. Not just because of the blonde's competitive nature either.

It was kids like Mello that made Roger want to start the tradition.

Mello began to step awkwardly over the dozens of ornaments he had displaced and wrapped lights around the branches.

"The least you could do is help!" the boy yelled, startling Matt. "You messed it up. You should be helping me."

Matt kept his silence and allowed Mello to hand him the other end of the lights.

"You should loosen up a bit, Mello," Matt said quietly, feeding the lights out as his friend pulled the string taught. "This is supposed to be a fun thing, remember?"

"Maybe it would be fun, if some people knew what they were doing."

The red head leaned over and twisted the stereo's volume knob a few additional clicks as they circled the tree.

"Just be quiet and listen to your music," Matt added grumpily, raising his voice to be heard.

A few songs and almost fifteen minutes later, the lights were properly strung and the ornaments were in the process of finding new homes.

Mello made a face and groaned when he saw the broken ornaments Matt had been so thrilled with.

"Ugh, we can't put these on here. They're broken! We won't stand a chance in the competition with broken ornaments."

He discarded the reindeer and the gingerbread man with a careless toss and began to arrange the balls and stars in a way that must have been aesthetically pleasing to himself.

Matt assisted Mello in hanging the rest of the decorations, but was not in the mood to say much of anything. When the tree was complete, he sprawled across his bed with his Gameboy and a handful of prepackaged sugar cookies he had saved from the mess hall, eager to ignore the blonde for awhile.

Later that night, the winners of the decorating contest were announced during dinner. Mello almost choked on a glob of mashed potatoes when he learned that Linda had won, decorating not only her tree, but the entirety of her room with hand painted ornaments assembled from trash. He probably could have come to terms with the triumph of his more creative female classmate if not for the identity of the runner-up. Near had taken second place.

Matt resisted the urge to ask Mello for the rest of his cranberry sauce, sensing the turmoil in the blonde's temper. Their tree had not even attained the status of honorable mention… as usual.

Each year Mello went crazy about the tree, and each year nothing came of it, leaving Matt to deal with his friend's annual holiday meltdown.

As they returned to their room after the meal, Matt wore the disposition of a condemned man. A condemned man whose last meal had not even included extra cranberry sauce.

Matt sat down and waited for the imminent explosion, but Mello only stared at the tree. He locked himself in a contest of focus with the overdressed plastic pine, losing as badly as he had to his classmates. The struggle ended with Mello ripping the star from the top branch and stepping on it.

"Why can't it ever be the same?" he muttered furiously, listening to the plastic crunching beneath his shoe.

Matt looked up, but didn't say anything, mostly because he didn't have an answer.

He pulled his goggles over his eyes just in case Mello decided to throw things (as he often did during the annual holiday meltdown), and padded softly to the wastebasket.

As Mello began to spout maledictions relating to everything from Christmas to classwork to Near's stray socks which had somehow found their way into his clean laundry, Matt fished out the crippled ornaments from earlier.

He handed Mello the headless reindeer and smiled timidly.

"It doesn't have to be the same to be good," the redhead said, placing the one-armed gingerbread man on a tree branch. "Don't discount the new memories. The paper reindeer died for them, you know."

**Author's Note: Yes, not as humorous as some of the previous ficlets, but I do hope it brought you a smile. Thank you for reading, and happy holidays everyone!**


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